


Masks

by susies_fandom_wonders



Series: Requested Fics [11]
Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Gen, not ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 07:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12836031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/susies_fandom_wonders/pseuds/susies_fandom_wonders
Summary: Professor Layton figures out Desmond's secret early.





	Masks

**Author's Note:**

> From my Tumblr blog, slenderbrine22.tumblr.com . Anonymous requested a fic where Layton reveals that Desmond is Descole early on during their trip on the Bostonius.

Desmond’s eyes widened in shock as Layton’s finger fell on him.

How did he figure it out?

The room seemed to go silent at the accusation, Luke giving out a surprised shout as he looked from his mentor to the elder professor. Only Emmy and Raymond weren’t shocked; Aurora had clapped her hands over her mouth. Desmond swallowed.

“I’m not sure I see where you’re coming from with that accusation, Professor.” Layton seemed about as shook with the information as Desmond was, his eyes flashing with betrayal.

“I find it quite obvious, Professor Sycamore.” Layton placed a hand under his chin, looking at Desmond with a cool expression, the previous betrayal on his face masked.

“Please do elaborate, then, as I am quite confused at what you’re getting at. Why do you think I’m Descole?”

“Master,” Raymond suddenly interjected, “let me take care of this.” Desmond shot a glance at his butler, before straightening his tie.

“I can handle this myself, Raymond.”

“It hadn’t really occured to me that you may be Descole until Aurora was kidnapped. You acted just like Descole when he becomes frustrated. The way you hold yourself is the same; you didn’t create a different posture to throw anyone off.” Layton stepped closer to Desmond, and the red-eyed man’s gaze flickered from Layton to the other guests on the Bostonius. Luke was looking at him with an expression that pleaded for Layton to be wrong, Desmond couldn’t be Descole. Emmy stared at him with a small frown, though her posture had grown stiff as she moved towards Luke.

Aurora stared at him with large eyes, and she stepped back once his gaze landed on hers. He felt his heart lurch.

“You have a scar here,” Layton continued, pointing to the lighter patch of skin on Desmond’s cheek. The red-eyed man’s eyes widened as a hand reached to touch the raised skin. That was when he had fallen off the large robot at Ambrosia; his cheek had almost been cut open by that tree that cushioned part of his fall. “When I found Descole at Ambrosia, his cheek had been gashed by a branch. The scar there proves it.”

Desmond could see Raymond tensing out of his peripheral vision. He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until he exhaled shakily. Layton was staring at him with a small frown.

How could he explain his way out of this one? Desmond felt a cold sweat sweep over him.

It was eerily quiet, and everyone, even the cat, sitting on the couch, was staring at him. His grip on his tie tightened. Layton saw the movement, and took a step back.

“Why disguise yourself?” Desmond shook his head at the question.

“If you are referring as to why I am Desmond, I can’t answer that. This,” he gestured to himself, “is me under that mask. It’s no disguise.” Putting on the mask seemed very tempting right now. His mind was going into overdrive, his hands beginning to shake. “I had to become Descole to keep my true identity from Targent. The last time I explored the Azran without a mask to hide under….” Desmond paused, shaking his head. Raymond was next to him in an instant, as if sensing the man was in distress. The butler addressed the group as Desmond struggled to even out his breathing, his heart seeming to go a mile a minute.

“Master Sycamore has his reasons, and I can assure you he doesn’t plan on anyone getting hurt.” Layton looked at Desmond, eyebrows furrowed as he bit his lip at the quivering man.

“I’m sorry,” the professor muttered as Desmond looked up at him. “I will still help you, Desmond. But if anything goes wrong, please. Don’t hurt Emmy or Luke.” Desmond heard the underlying protectiveness in Layton’s voice, and he nodded, looking down at the floor.

The room was still quiet, but the air had grown tense as Layton turned back to his apprentice and assistant. Raymond looked over at Desmond, his eyebrows creased in worry.

“Do you need to turn in, Master?” The red-eyed man bit his lip, trying to keep the tears that had sprung into his eyes from trickling down his face. He looked at his butler and nodded.

“I’m sorry.”

“You are perfectly okay, Master.” Raymond placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and guided him away from the main room of the Bostonius.

Meanwhile, Layton stared at the space where Desmond was with tired eyes. He never thought that he would be correct, at least not with this mystery. He sighed.

Why did bad luck follow him everywhere?


End file.
